Similar Posts

  • | |

    #32 Before I learned not to listen

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would stand
    seemingly still
    but secretly swaying
    swallowed up by a willow tree
    and its play with the wind

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would hold my head against the rind
    reach
    reconnect with an old friend
    the way it has always felt best
    cheek pressed to chest

    Before I learned not to listen
    a breeze in the leaves
    rustling ruminating
    would sound like raindrops in my ears
    making my eyes answer
    with a torrent of tears

    Before I learned not to listen
    a rolling thunder
    thumping like a beating heart
    would rumble from my cheek to my ear
    replacing my fear
    with a memory I used to held dear
    we were never really apart

    Before I learned not to listen
    before the lust for language
    reduced what I could see
    and sense within
    I would allow the whispers of the wordless world
    speak to me like kin

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would accept
    that once upon a time
    I remembered your name
    and once upon a time we both knew
    we were one and all the same

    Lukas Van Vyve
  • |

    #242 The accomplishments that slipped away

    Over the years, I’ve become quite skilled at letting present worries overshadow past triumphs.

    But what would it be like to let past triumphs overshadow present worries?

    And what would it be like to have present triumphs overshadow past worries?

    Maybe you know better than me, my friend. Or maybe it’s something you’d like to practice too.

    Here’s a journal prompt to get us started:

    What’s a forgotten accomplishment from your past that once filled you with pride but has since slipped away from your thoughts?

  • #439 Resolve can bring you far

    I can’t predict what will happen tomorrow – or even today.

    But I do know that today, I resolve to write.

    And tomorrow I resolve to write once again.

    And that resolve has brought me to 439 consecutive days of writing.

    439 days of writing, despite living in an unpredictable world.

    439 days of realizing most obstacles are excuses.

    439 days of proving that resolve can bring you pretty far.

  • |

    #217 Inaction is not the lack of action

    If I don’t write the post I intended to write, I actively avoid the desired result of my writing.

    If I don’t do the workout I intended to do, I actively avoid the desired result of my workout (being in better shape, running a new PR,…)

    If I don’t have the difficult conversation I intended to have, I actively avoid the desired result of that conversation.


    Inaction is not the lack of action.

    Inaction is taking active action to avoid working towards the result you desire.

    The real question, then, is:

    Why do I actively avoid working toward a desired result?

    Am I worried that even if I write daily, I’ll never become a skilled writer?

    Am I worried I won’t enjoy writing anymore if I ever get recognition?

    Am I worried that writing every day will turn me into a skilled writer, but being a professional writer won’t be fulfilling?

    P.S. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I only have a limited repertoire of examples in this newsletter, my friend

    I trust you to apply the insight to your situation.

    And maybe, when you’re pondering the question above, you’ll come to the same conclusion as me:

    That more often than not, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *